Bethany Smith was born in Agusta, Maine on June 6, 1996. She had a good childhood, full of family dinners and stellar report cards. She surprised everyone by not applying to any colleges, and moving to Chicago with her high school sweetheart, Colin. They married soon after, but her picture perfect life seemed to end there. Colin died on a hunting trip or a ski accident or during a hiking trip with his best friend two years after they were married. She surprised everyone even more when she started working at the same funeral home that “took care of Colin.” Bethany never struck anyone as the type who would work somewhere so morbid, but she seems to love it! It gives her plenty of time to read her books (romance, especially anything with vampires or monsters) and her bosses are pretty lax on the cell phone policy. If you ever ask her for advice, she’ll tell you that “the kindness I to others show, that kindness comes to me.”
Bethany has always been unassuming, but it has only become worse since Colin died. She keeps her mousy brown hair cut above her shoulders (she hates when its in her eyes). She’s 5’5″ with a slim build and dark brown eyes. She tends to favor jeans and pants, and can rarely be found in a t-shirt as she likes feeling “put together.” She has a light dusting of freckles, and acne scars that are slowly fading. One of the signature parts of her style is her green nail polish, because she feels like it makes her features pop. Lunch most days is a salad or leftovers, and after work she might enjoy an Old Fashioned or two. She doesn’t go anywhere without her phone. She is glued to it, whether she is at work or anywhere else. She can be found making hushed phone calls and viciously texting, but swears “its nothing.”
Smithy, on the other hand, was “born” September 29, 2011 at 1:06pm. She knew her Dad was up to something, but he had been going on a lot of “work trips” recently and “working late” more nights than not. One day, she went to bring her Dad some lunch and walked in on a scene she would never be able to forget. Her Dad was dead, bent over his desk in a pool of blood. While she knew it was wrong, she had to look at her Dad’s computer before calling the police. Through his emails and phone records, she realized that the man she knew as a good father and loving husband was one of the East Coast’s most powerful mobsters. Whatever had happened to her Dad was clearly targeted, but the police ruled it a suicide. Smithy used what she found on the laptop to slowly begin to build her own empire, using her connections to the crematorium to take care of anyone who causes her trouble. No one knows who Smithy is, and no one knows what Bethany is always so preoccupied with.
